A stench worse than death. Kelley stared at the garbage bag in his closet. Even through the plastic, something smelled off, as though rather than drying out the blood had turned sour. He arrived at school early to toss it in the dumpster. It was his blood, but still, he didn’t want bloody clothes anywhere… Read More »Lyre – 6. Nightmares and Egregores
I live inside your mirror. Do you resent me for watching? Why? I made it for you. All I ask is that you let me weave in peace. You know I am there. You know I don’t like you looking. Such fearful eyes. What are you afraid of? Flying wood chips barreled through disparate, fleeing… Read More »Lyre – 5. Mother Spider’s Mirror
Hungry hellhounds snarled in the wind. There would be a sacrifice. They had smelt it. A harvest moon lit the tree in front of the Smoke Eater’s bungalow. The staging could not have been better; one-eyed nature was watching. “Good night for it,” said Artie. “Are you sure this is what you want?” “I’m sure.… Read More »Lyre – 4. Postcard from Suicide Island
Dawn’s rose-tipped fingers parted matted boughs, reaching down to pry apart Babalon’s eyelids. Disbelief washed over her. She had slept. She had dreamed. In a way. Though she had no dreams of her own, she was content to walk through those of strangers. In the first, she watched from above as a small girl fell… Read More »Lyre – 3. Dreams on the Shore
Hidden in the closet stairwell of a stranger’s home, Kelley sat huddled behind several cardboards boxes. Caroline had come home early. And from what he understood, for no reason at all. Just to fuck with him. He couldn’t believe it. There was no reason for her to believe he might be there, and yet here… Read More »Lyre – 2. Warm Plastic
“There is a hole in the moon. A spiral. Like the one in your soul,” said the thing in the eggshell mask. “It is a tunnel painted with clocks and stars and like an artery it pulses. Do not be afraid. It will wait for you. There is a choice to be made.” The final… Read More »Lyre – 1. Metempsychosis
